


Lemons and Asphalt

by nxt2bin



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: JISUNG IN SKIRTS, M/M, RACER AU, blame kartrider for this it pushed me lmao, idk how to tag but pls read ily, mentioned death but not major, mentioned rivalry to twice, they makeout for like two times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24958405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxt2bin/pseuds/nxt2bin
Summary: Minho loves the racetrack. Maybe he loves the racer, too.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80
Collections: fav





	Lemons and Asphalt

The sound of his engine rustling, his wheels rolling on the asphalt roads. 

His hands gripped on the leather steering wheel of a racing car, his platform boots applying more pressure on the gas pedal to speed up his vehicle. 

The dashboard’s ticks rotated at an alarming pace as the vehicle speeded through his own playground, a grin plastered on his face. 

The background of his vision was nothing but blurry as he sped past obstacles and his slacking opponent, his cheshire eyes glanced up on his rear view mirror and he saw the humps he passed by. His red hair was wavy and it parted on his forehead, showcasing his face in an intimidating way. Red jewels adorned his eyes — it made him seem like an expensive statue. 

His black top was unbuttoned on the first three buttons, his collars disheveled from the speed he was rushing in. His dangling earrings swayed in the wind — he looked straight out of an 80’s fictional book. 

His eyes glistened as he spotted the finishing point from a distance, a laugh bubbling up on his throat. He applied even more pressure to the gas pedal and fidgeted on the levels from his gears, making him go at an unbelievably faster pace. 

He twisted a gear to prepare his engine to drift, and he took a deep breath as he turned his steering wheel. His earring from his left ear hit his skin softly from the impact, his hair strands blowing on the same way. He quickly stirred to the opposite direction after his drift, his wheels screeching at an oddly satisfying pitch. 

He panted as he smiled from his victory, it was once again grasped on his hands. No room for escape. He hit the brakes and removed his seatbelt, unlocking his car and getting off. His black boots hit the asphalt satisfyingly — the moonlight hit his face, illuminating his features. He fixed his collar for a bit and leaned on his blaring red car, his legs and arms crossed. He looked up into the sky and his vision met a cloudy sky, barely any stars were decorating the endless canvas. It was only the faint glimmer of the moon present, and several blankets of clouds. 

A car screech distracted him from adoring the dark sky, his head jerking from the sky to the direction of the sound. A blinding silver car drifted right beside his own, the dim lights highlighting some of its parts. The front light spotted Minho, creating a few shadows on his face. Smoke was emitting from the exhaust pipe, making Minho seem like being introduced in a dramatic racer movie. 

The lights switched off, and the front door opened. It revealed a slightly shorter man, his hair parted into colors of black, red and blue. Did I mention that glitters were there too?

“My skills are kind of... rusty.” Chan giggled as he stood in front of Minho, his eyes crinkling up into small slits, his dimples deep as the pacific ocean. Minho only grinned. 

“Ah yeah, of course.” Chan laughed as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket, grabbing a few bills and handing them over to Minho who gladly accepted them. “The bet.”

“It’s not like I really care about the bet.” Minho laughed as he looked up into the sky. Chan mimicked his action. 

“I just missed racing, that’s all.” His eyes softened as the moon became less visible due to the amount of clouds covering it. 

“How about me? Didn’t miss me?” Chan joked as he leaned on Minho’s car, right beside the owner himself. 

“Don’t wanna fuel your ego more.” Minho looked at Chan with a teasing smile. Chan rolled his eyes as he slightly punched Minho on the shoulders. The latter faked a pained expression in which the duo laughed about. 

“When did you last paint your car? It seems so glossy.” Chan grazed his hands over the smooth material, observing it vocally.

“Last week, I think? I just had extras and I wanted to make this sparkly again.” Minho scrunched up his nose in confusion as he tried to remember. He looked at his car again, his eyes meeting Chan’s veiny ones. 

“Nice decision, then.” Minho lifted his vision to Chan himself, who fidgeted and adjusted himself in front of the taller. His two arms caged the younger on his car, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his pale skin appearing even paler. He leaned a tad bit forward and Minho started to observe his face. 

He was wearing a face chain, going across his face from the two sides. The chains met between his two eyes, resting on the bridge of his nose. The metal didn’t sparkle due to the lack of light, but Chan still looked stunning for Minho. 

“Want to make another nice decision?”

Minho rolled his eyes as he wrapped the two of his arms around Chan’s neck, drawing him closer. It was a silent decision for him to successfully shut Chan up with an apparently “nice decision.”

Their lips met, and it felt so safe and familiar. The taste of the lemon chapstick Chan wore complimented Minho’s watermelon ones, creating a surprisingly pleasant taste. Chan smelled like his car, a hint of peppermint and a scent that somewhat makes you dizzy. It’s not like Minho really minded the smell, it’s not like he didn’t want to get intoxicated with Chan, anyway. 

The smell of asphalt and smoke comforted the two boys as they kissed under the several blankets of clouds, making their kiss seem more realistic. Kisses weren’t meant to be all butterflies and rainbows — there were colorless parts of it, too. 

Minho’s lips moved against Chan’s in a soft manner, his nose bridge hitting Chan’s cheeks slightly. The cold metal grazed under his nose, making him slightly shiver from the sudden temperature. He tilted his face slightly upwards in a diagonal motion, slightly adding pressure to meet Chan’s again. 

His hands slightly pulled Chan’s hair strands from behind as Chan slightly pushed him back, in which Minho was only informed when his back hit the doors of his car. 

Chan lifted one of his hands to grip Minho’s cheeks, drawing him impossibly closer. His fingers ran over some of Minho’s face jewels, a slightly bumpy texture meeting his finger pads. 

Chan tasted like lemons, yet he smelled like asphalt.

Everything felt so right. 

Minho and Chan met at the racetracks. Of course. 

Minho was new — recruited by his friend, Changbin, who was also a racer. He met Changbin at his university as a senior who helped him that one time in escaping from his teachers while skipping class. Classic. 

Their friendship eventually grew from there, the two occasionally hanging out and developing an understanding that only the two of them can share. 

Casual hangouts developed from random skipping of classes to hanging outside of school, going at random billiard areas to play at. 

Changbin was Minho’s self-proclaimed best friend — well, only friend. It kind of sucks to be the black sheep within a flock. It’s not like the community didn’t like him, they just had their own clusters already where Minho deemed to not fit in. 

They spent several nights playing billiards at a local area, the place clouded with the smell of cigarettes and sweaty people. It was hot in the area, and the tension within the players didn’t help, too. All of them were just random, colorless people who had a hobby to keep them sane. Minho and Changbin were a couple of them. 

Eventually, those billiard hangouts always ended with them eating out, satisfying their hunger and exhaustion from pushing and aiming at random balls to shoot at. They ate at the most random areas — cheap food and uncomfortable locations, of course. The two of them were broke from spending all their pocket money in renting pool tables, so they only had the bare minimum for food. Cheap food always tastes great after their guilty pleasures, after all. 

“You done?” Changbin asked the elder. 

“Yep.” Minho answered as he took the last bite of his fried dumplings, gulping a decent amount of ice cold water after. 

“Can you still stay out? I want to... show you something.” Minho raised his eyebrows but agreed nonetheless. It’s not like someone is waiting for him back home, anyway. 

The two boys walked down the dark alleyways in the night, strolling casually. The night breeze hits differently tonight for some reason — maybe it was just the after effects of him having a scrumptious meal. 

The elder dragged him into a tacky area, a large wall blocking their way. A misaligned door was in front of them, white paint scraping off and a few graffitis decorating the plain canvas. 

There were also a few, pretty looking cars parked outside. 

Changbin pulled out a key and opened the entrance, locking the door after the both of them entered the area. It was dark, barely any light covering the area. Changbin held Minho’s wrists as they skimmed over the dark area, revealing another metal gate. The bars barely covered the opposite area but it served its purpose — Minho finally saw where Changbin took him. 

A racing track. 

“Changbin! Brought a friend with you?” A man with strong features asked him. 

“Yep. This is Minho. Minho, meet Bambam.” He introduced the two to each other. An awkward handshake following the string of words Changbin spit out, a tight smile painting on both of their lips. 

“So... have you ever raced before?”

Raced before? Nah. 

But is he willing to try? Heck yeah. 

Minho got along with the crew easily. They had something within them that made them appear so friendly to him — but of course, not to their opponents. Minho blended well with them, he was simply a new bead to the already existing necklace. They all seemed perfect with each other. 

They all raced for fun, no harm or anything bad intended — just racing to their heart’s desire. Racing made Minho feel some sort of adrenaline rushing in his veins, the one that made him feel high and happy. Like he was in cloud nine, even if he never experienced going there beforehand. All Minho knows is that racing is now part of his routine. And it won’t go away anytime soon. 

“We have a tournament in like, the next two weeks.” Explained Jisung. “The pay’s pretty big, and if we won, it would be a nice call for celebration.”

“Who are we going against?” Seungmin quirked, fixing his parted purple hair. 

“They go by Twice, if I remember correctly.” Jisung squinted his eyes and looked up, trying to remember. 

“No way.” Felix had his mouth hung open. “Twice? As in the best female racers from the town beside us?”

“Yep.” Jisung popped the ‘p.’ “Kinda nerve wrecking, but who knows? It’s gonna be a good game either way.”

“I think we’re going on a 4 versus 4 competition. Who will we put in the lineup?” Changbin hummed, signifying that he was pondering. 

“Felix. Definitely.” Seungmin spoke up. Felix smiled in response, agreeing to take responsibility. “Who else?”

“Bambam.” Changbin suggested. A chorus of agreement followed after, the gang completely putting their trust in the eldest. 

“Hyunjin? Or Chan?” Felix gave out suggestions. 

“Chan would be the one training us.” Minho explained. “It would be too much of a burden for him already. But if he wants too, then it’s fine.”

“Nah, you’re right.” Jisung responded. “Let’s just make Chan and Hyunjin the fifth and sixth man. You know, just in case any one gets injured or something.”

“That’s a nice idea.” Jeongin grinned. “The last two could be Changbin and Minho.”

The remaining heads faced the two, waiting for their response. You could see the anticipation in Changbin’s eyes, obviously excited — it was the opposite of Minho’s, who was nervous. 

“Are you nervous?” Chan whispered beside him. Minho slightly nodded, not that it was too obvious for the other members to catch up on. 

“You’ll do great. Trust me. I’ll train you and it would be a nice experience for you, too.” Chan convinced the latter. “I’ll give you a nice surprise if we win.”

Minho pursed his lips, thinking rationally, for once. He took a deep breath and lifted his head. 

“I’m up.” The rest smiled teasingly at him, proud that the newest in racing among them had taken courage to participate in a large tournament. 

“Sweet.”

“Where are we competing?” Bambam asked. “We need to get used to the tracks there. Or not, we don’t really know the rules.” 

“We haven’t talked about that yet.” Jisung clicked his tongue. “I’ll just ask later. All I know is we’re racing the Saturday after next week’s, and it will be seven laps. It’s sort of a bet, we’re putting money in risk. I’ll just use the money we all took part in giving from.”

“Twice must be really confident, then.” Minho smirked, amused. 

“They’ve been racing a long time before us, anyway. We’re merely just rookies.” Jisung shrugged. 

“So, daily training?” Jeongin spoke up. 

“Yeah,” Chan smirked. “I kinda miss training with you all lately.” 

“You’re on.”

Training went by quickly — time really does fly fast when you enjoy it. Every night, Minho has been going straight at their training grounds, immediately gearing up after his university classes. 

Minho was currently in his car, back in the tracks again. He was doing his regular laps in their grounds — he was so used to driving there that even if his eyes were closed, he’d still slay and not bump his car to the barriers. 

It was his fourth lap already, one more and he’ll head home. He was pretty exhausted prior to the events at their school that he had to take care of, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. He was just tired, that’s all. There’s nothing a good night’s sleep can fix. 

The familiar yellow and black reflector shone in his vision from afar, reflecting the light from his headlights. He immediately knew the signal and pushed the lever, twisting his wheel to the left, making a sharp turn that appeared as a drift. He immediately pulled the level back to its original position and twisted his steering wheel to the other side to maintain his car in the middle of the road. 

Smooth. 

Another yellow and black reflector brought itself to light, making Minho alert. He definitely knew that there was another drifting spot after the one he drove on, but the feeling of sudden turns greeting him made him smile like a psycho. 

Another smooth drift made Minho grin like a cheshire cat, his wheel screeching at a high pitched sound. He could see some of the smoke emitting from his engine at the back, slightly clouding and blocking his ability to see the back from his rear view mirror. He drifted his vision from the mirror to the road again, his eyes widening in horror while his eyebrows were furrowed. 

He hit the brakes harshly, pulling the lever back to stop the car. The sudden stop made Minho’s body fall forward, his hands that were on the wheel supporting him from the impact. 

A grinning Chan blocked his way from doing his daily laps, waving coyly. 

Minho grimaced, rolling his windows down and put his hand out to give Chan a middle finger. He honked his car in annoyance. 

“Stupid fuck! I could accidentally kill you, you know?” Minho shouted from his car. Chan walked towards the window, crossing his arms where the glass disappeared at the door. One hand was raised to support Chan’s head as he tilted it, his body leaning towards the driver. 

“You’re elite, Min. I know you couldn’t kill me.” He teased and Minho released a huff of annoyance as he drifted his vision from the steering wheel to the man beside him. 

“Why are you in the middle of the road from nowhere, anyway?” 

“Just wanna mess with you, that’s all.” Chan laughed. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” Minho ran his fingers through his red hair. 

“Are you letting me in your car or...?” 

“Get in, loser.”

They were now sitting at a retro diner to satisfy their appetites after a long day. The diner had blue and white checkered tiles, round windows with white frames decorating the walls. The seats on the sides were made of soft, dark blue cushions, while the ones in the middle were individual, white metal chairs. 

They sat near the sides, a low wall separating their table from the other one from the opposite side. A soft tune was playing in the background as a warm white light radiated from the light hanging on top of them, hooded with the same shade of blue as the tiles. 

Chan was mixing his iced tea with his straw, the ice and lemon swirling around his drink as they waited for their meal. If you could call that one, at least. 

Minho munched on the fries that they requested to be served earlier than their burgers, his teeth grinding as he chewed on the salty and unhealthy treat. 

His eyes stared at the side, observing the streetlights displayed outside, a soft drizzle of rain making the light seem smudged from where he is. It was ironic how the windows were nearer from Minho’s left but he decided to stare at the right side — but who cares? It’s Minho. He’s unique. You can’t argue with that.

Minho was brought back to reality as he heard the clicking of the glass plates hitting the wooden table softly. The waitress were serving their burgers with a tray held on her left hand, the other doing the work of transferring the goods from the tray to their table. 

“Is your order complete?” She asked before she grabbed their order number standing from their table. She silently walked away from the two, tray and order number in hand. 

“You’re not hungry?” Chan asked as he saw their orders. His order was practically double the size of Minho’s, making him feel self-conscious.

“Not really,” Minho started. “Just tired.”

“Want me to take out our orders instead, then? I’ll take you home.” Chan offered. 

“We arrived here using my car.” Minho deadpanned. “And I’m not telling you where I live.”

“Afraid I’ll show up at an unholy hour of the night with takeouts?” He joked. Minho took a deep breath, controlling his temper. 

“Just eat already.” Minho snapped as he munched on his burger. Chan just laughed at him. 

Minho was one of the hundred reasons behind Chan’s smile. He would never admit that out loud, though. 

Chan was someone special to Minho. Well, all of the crew is — Chan was just... special. 

He was the first to approach Minho without the scary and awkward aura, he was the one who made him feel comfortable with the rest of the six. Changbin wasn’t really much if a help to Minho warming up to the gang, he was pretty awkward himself too. He couldn’t blame him, though. 

Since Chan was the first to approach the latter, he naturally ended up being the one who trained Minho. All of those drifts, gears, engines and simple car repairs — you name it, Chan taught him all. 

It was no surprise that Chan bought Minho his car — well, not really “bought,” but it used to be Chan’s car before he got ahold of it. Chan was planning to buy a new one before Minho even joined the gang — it was just a nice coincidence that Chan didn’t have to worry about disposing his old vehicle. It was in good hands. 

Their friendship was quite intimate. They became the closest duo out of the group, and surprisingly, Changbin paid no mind. He was even glad that someone got Minho to break from his shell. It was a blessing, really. Sure, he may became a tad bit distant to Changbin, but it really doesn’t matter. 

Minho and Chan were just two friends who met in a racetrack and ended up on racetracks. 

The last day before the tournament arrived — it was already Friday. Tomorrow would be a big day not only for Minho, but for the whole crew too. All of them were gathered in their training grounds, preparing for the next day. Jisung was marking the start of the race between the team, four engines aligned with a checkered line in front of them. Jisung had pink gloss smothered over his lips, his eyelids covered with silver glitter that shimmered as the headlights pointed to him. His skirt was flaring at the bottom and rested on his thighs, his right hand gripping on a large flag. A fishnet stocking also layered his skin before the fabric of the skirt. 

“Ready?” He grinned. Hyunjin sat with Bambam on the shotgun seat, slightly training him by giving him small tips here and there. They both faced each other knowingly as Jisung started the countdown. 

“3,” Seungmin released his grip on Felix’s thigh as the elder prepared to set his engine on fire. He clutched on the wheel as in his life depended on it, his shoe-clad foot ready to press on the gas pedal. 

“2,” Jeongin muttered a silent ‘good luck’ to his partner, Changbin. He just dyed his hair the previous day in preparation for the event, also getting an undercut. He looked so expensive, his blue hair glimmering under the moonlight and his earring dangling on his ear. 

“1!”

“Go!” Minho immediately pressed on the pedal, clutching on the wheel tightly. Chan was beside him comfortably laying on the shotgun seat despite the chaos happening around them. 

“Humps ahead.” Chan warned. 

“I know.” Minho applied more pressure at the gas pedal and his car started to glide over the ramp that was facing upwards, his engine facing slightly towards the sky. Chan grinned, proud of the younger. 

Their car was slightly in the air from suddenly rushing away from the end on the ramp, slightly flying and landing back on the tracks again. The car bounced lightly, but Minho paid no mind. 

Minho drifted to the left, getting competitive as he saw Changbin and Jeongin’s car rushing past them. His grin was no longer on his face — it was replaced with a small loop sided grimace. He started to get furious as he switched some gears in his car. 

Another drift was coming on their way, and Minho immediately prepared for it. He quickly took a nice and precise turn, successfully passing by Changbin’s car. He grinned again, glancing again ar his rear view mirror to see the look on Changbin’s face. 

The rest of the race was all the same — Changbin and Minho were constantly in each other’s throats, while the other two cars were competing against each other for the third place. It was such a shame that there were only four competitors and you haven’t won anything, you know. 

The familiar setting of the start line was already alarming Minho, as he already finished the last lap. Just one more push and he would get the first place. 

Changbin started catching up, their cars side by side. He was cackling along with Jeongin, looking like a couple of psychos. 

“Drift your way to the end, Min.” Mingo forgot about Chan’s presence, to be honest. He was surprised but nonetheless he followed his advice. The end was right beneath his nose, he took a sharp turn and his wheels screeched as in turned to another direction suddenly. His car rotated, the front wheels barely passing the finish line and the back wheels did an 180. His car appeared to face the opposite way. Nonetheless, he won. 

Only by .72 seconds. 

“That’s...” Chan whistled. “Hot.”

Both of them laughed, unknowing of the other two cars arriving shortly after them. Bambam's car arrived just a tad bit before Felix’s — it was almost considered a tie. 

All of them got out of their cars, Jisung smiling. 

“Winners are pretty obvious.” He teased. “First place to Chan and Minho. Second is Changbin and Jeongin. Last place is Bambam and Hyunjin. Felix and Seungmin were also great, just less than a second before Bambam'sarrival. Gotta give credit to that.” 

“Thanks,” Seungmin rhetorically answered, resulting in Felix slightly punching him in the arm. 

“I guess we’re all ready tomorrow, then?” 

“Heck yeah we are.”

Chan and Minho stayed back at the tracks while the others already went home to rest. Or not — Jisung looked like he was about to go clubbing after. Well, it’s his fault if he arrives with a massive headache tomorrow. 

Minho kindly asked Chan to stay back to help him a bit more. He was nervous as he was merely a newbie compared to the rest of the members — he mustn’t disappoint. Chan agreed, of course. Who wouldn’t like to stay back with a pretty and hot boy?

Chan was in his own car, starting his engine a bit. He just wanted to feel the comfort of his haven before anything else. It’s a weird habit, but it’s Chan — he was unique. 

He turned the engine off and unlocked his vehicle, heading over to Minho’s. He wordlessly opened the door to the shotgun seat and made himself comfortable. It was his old car, after all. 

Minho fidgeted on his seat to find a nice position, adjusting his grip to the wheel. He looked at his side and smiled at the elder, showcasing his pearly whites. Chan mirrored his expression and did the same. 

“So,” Chan started off. “What do you need help with?”

“Nothing big, really. Observe my driving and suggest tips like you did earlier, I guess?” Chan hummed and nodded. 

“Sure, go ahead then.” Minho rolled his shoulders back and tilted his head from one side to another, licking his dry lips softly. 

The headlights became more luminous as it gave light to a large expanse of the area, his engine roaring, ready to speed up. 

Pressing on the pedal like any other day, the car started off slow compared to the whole race. He was slowly picking up his pace, the background becoming more blurry as he passed through several obstacles. 

“The humps on the side. Drive on them. It’ll make your car have a fair air time and have a bit of a boost.” Minho complied, stirring his wheel to drive on the sides of the track. The hump suddenly came and the car indeed floated in the air for a couple of seconds, making his car fall forward a tad bit faster compared to driving in the middle. 

“Nice.” Chan had his lips curl up into a small smile. Minho continued to drive on the humps from the left and right sides, making himself used to air time without feeling anxious. 

“Boost your gas when you’re going straight. Not when there’s a drift nearby.” Minho snorted. 

“I thought that was pretty obvious.”

“Well, I don’t really see you doing it.” Chan shrugged. 

“Whatever.” He did speed up for a bit during the straight tracks, and slowed by just a bit during the drifts and turns. 

The night passed by quickly. Turns out they only had two rounds with three laps each, and Minho surprisingly beat his own record. 

“6 minutes and 32.72 seconds. You just beat your own record.” Chan whistled as he checked his stopwatch. 

“Only learned from the best.” 

Silence fell over the two. 

“So, good luck tomorrow?” Chan faced Minho form previously looking at his stopwatch. Minho smiled and nodded. 

“Thank you.” Minho seemed sincere. He was usually a sarcastic and cynical person, but his words seem to be sincere than what he usually lets out. Chan was thankful for that. 

“You’re welcome. Always.” 

D-Day. 

Minho woke up earlier than usual due to nervousness. His throat felt tight and he felt like throwing up — but it was only his gut. He knew that it was just a feeling and he really would end up doing it, anyway. 

He took a short, cold shower as soon as he woke up. The crew were meeting at their training grounds and will head to the tournament venue all together later at 4, and it was still the morning. Minho had all the time to prepare. 

He microwaved an egg and cooked rice for his breakfast, eating his small meal silently. He played a few R&B songs to calm him down and temporarily take his mind off racing. 

He scrolled at his phone to find a nice game to consume time, only for his eyes to land on several racing games on his phone. 

“Damn, am I really this obsessed with racing?” He grimaced for a bit and settled to open Youtube to watch random videos. 

The videos rolled by quickly, successfully distracting Minho for the meantime. He was enjoying a nice gaming video, until a certain message popped out from his notification center. 

**_Dowoon:  
Your mom wants to meet you today._ **

Dowoon was Minho’s mom’s caretaker. He was a trusty buddy, someone who would genuinely take care of her while Minho wasn’t there. 

Minho’s face fell, he wasn’t expecting his mom to expect him to visit her today. 

_**Me:  
can i visit tomorrow? i sort of have an agenda to run today. ** _

Minho bit the sides of his lips as he waited for a response. 

**_Dowoon:  
She said that it’s really important. But if you have an agenda, you can just drop by tomorrow. _ **

**_Me:  
I’ll drop by tomorrow then. Thank you, Dowoon. Tell mom I’m sorry, I’ll just bring her fruits tomorrow. _ **

Minho sighed, placing his phone down. It was sort of another thought for him to worry about, apart from his tournament. 

“Shit.” Minho’s eyes widened as he glanced on his phone to view the time. 

2:14. 

Minho hastily stood up from his comfortable asian sitting at his singular dining chair. He slid open his cabinet and viewed the variety of choices he can wear. 

He hummed, his hands running over the clothes that were hung. Settled with his go-to black button up, and grabbed a few chains to adorn his waist. 

He pondered whether to use a black and white pleated skirt and fishnets or a set of leather pants and a thigh harness, in which he chose the latter. His skirt would probably fly backwards and show his underwear when racing, so he picked the safe choice. 

He quickly tossed his large, blue T-shirt and sweatpants and jumped into the clothes immediately. He buttoned up his shirt and fixed the collar, tying a few chains on his waist. Afterwards, he slid onto his leather pants and buckled his harness, fitting his thighs comfortably. 

“Should I?” Minho contemplated whether to use makeup or not. He barely used those, and were reserved for special occasions. He couldn’t afford new ones if his current ones are empty, too. 

“Today is sort of special, anyway.” Minho shrugged. He sat on his all around table, pulling some eyeshadow and bottles here and there from his bottom drawer. He quickly applied his usual routine and stuck some jewels on his face — his face was shining with black and clear fake crystals. He was satisfied as he parted his hair, quickly settling on to his look. 

He pocketed his phone and grabbed his wallet and keys, locking his apartment door as he walked downstairs and got into his car. 

Cars which contained hues of the rainbow. It was no unfamiliar view — Minho could even distinguish which cars were whose. 

Bambam had a red, blazing car — it had a sleek design with two black stripes dividing the car into two. 

Chan had a 2020 released car — silver, it shone within the headlights and sunlights. It was almost blinding to look at — but not as blinding as Chan’s smile. 

Changbin had a navy blue car, parked besides Felix’s pink one. Hyunjin was leaning by his dark green car, talking to Jeongin, who was also leaning by his bumblebee yellow car. Seungmin had a purple car, one of which resembled his hair color. Speaking of which, did he have glitter on his hair right now?

He didn’t really want to pry as he saw Seungmin pushing his weight down on Jisung’s black motorcycle, the two of them lost in their own worlds. Jisung was entangling his hands beneath Seungmin’s glittery purple hair, his ripped jeans squishing his thighs as he sat on Jisung’s lap. Jisung was unsurprisingly wearing another gray skirt with dangling chains, an olive green, loose sweater tucked into it. He was wearing thigh highs in which his legs dangled over his motorcycle. Seungmin, who was enjoying his sweet time eating out the other’s face, was wearing a gray cropped sweatshirt which eventually exposed his stomach from all the leaning.

He grimaced, quickly retrieving his vision from the two lovers. He saw Chan waving at him inside his car, his windows down. Minho gulped as he saw a choker wrapper around his neck, a white button-down exposing his chest. 

“Did I save someone from my past life for me to be blessed like this?” He thought silently. 

He got out of his car and walked his way towards the elder to give a greeting. 

“Excited?” 

“Just a bit. I feel the opposite right now, actually.” He laughed as he leaned down on the edge of his window. 

“You’ll do great.” Chan’s eyes were reassuring, telling him that everything will be, in fact, okay. “Besides, don’t you want my surprise if you won?”

“If I won.” Minho emphasized on the ‘if.’ “Besides, if that isn’t a car, I might now like it.” 

“Trust me.” He laughed, his eyes forming into crescent moons. “It’s something wayyy better.”

Tournament area. 

There were no audience, just the two clubs in the tracks. 

Twice’s lineup was Chaeyoung, Jeongyeon, Momo and Jihyo — Dahyun being in charge of the hosting and being the commentator. Sana and Seungmin took care of the opposite’s team on stopwatches, taking note of the time the players rushed through the lap markings. 

Jisung was obviously the flagger — something Nayeon was pissy about. She really wanted to be the flagger this time, but she shrugged it off as Jisung did, undeniably, look hot as the flagger. 

Sana handed out in-ears to all of the players. 

“You can have a coach while driving. Just no foul or horseplay. Dahyun will also update you all about the leading players, time of lapses, and whatnot.” Sana grinned. “Mina and Hyunjin will be the treasurers to hold the betting money. No need to worry for the team's snitching.”

“Team winners will be determined by the rankings of when the player reached the final lap.”

A chorus of agreement followed, the players retreating to their own cars. Chan patted Minho for the last time. 

“Goodluck, yeah? Win that race for us. I’ be speaking into your in-ears.” Minho nodded. He took a deep breath and stepped inside his car, belting himself immediately for safety. He turned on his engine, smoke emitting from his exhaust tube again. 

He cracked his neck and gripped on the wheel. 

“You’ll do great, Min. I promise.” Chan’s voice rang through his ears from the in-ears, making him slightly startled. He had a small smile on his face again, a bit calm that Chan was cheering on him. 

Jisung was already standing at the middle of the racetrack, just in between Chaeyoung and Bambam's car — just enough that he wouldn’t be hit once he marked the start of the game. 

Jisung stepped on one of the tires on display, revealing his skirt and thigh highs more prominently. Two of his hands gripped on the flag’s pole, ready to wave. 

“Ready?” The other engines roared. 

“Three.” ‘Break a leg, Min!’

“Two.” ‘You’ll do well.’

“One!” Jisung waved the flag and the racers started to rush. A gush of wind passed by Jisung, his hair and skirt flying in the direction of the wind. 

“We got Jeongyeon’s car leading, and Changbin’s the next.” Dahyun’s voice radiated from the speakers. 

Seven laps. 

Minho could definitely work with that. The dark night was not visible in the tracks as the several head and back lights illuminated the road. 

Minho was unfamiliar with the road, and the risk of crashing was there. Adrenaline shot through his veins, anticipating for himself to successfully and safely finish the show. 

“Keep an eye out for humps, Min.” Chan reminded him. He immediately scanned through the tracks and found several humps on the side. He was the fourth car — Momo being the third before Changbin. 

He turned to the side, crossing the pink car of Felix behind him. He lunged forward, his car elevating and slightly flying again. Safely, his vehicle landed on all four wheels. He caught Momo's car, hers was so close to his. A small push and he would be third. 

He spotted another hump again, quickly riding on it to speed up. He landed safely once more, now side by side by Momo’s dark pink car — contrasting to Felix’s pastel pink one. 

He could see that Momo glanced for a second at his direction from his peripheral vision — but he paid no mind. It was no place to get distracted. 

He could see Jihyo and Chaeyoung’s car in his rear view mirror. He couldn’t let the last two of their opponents rank higher — they’ll surely loose. It was okay if only Jeongyeon would place first but their crew would rank second to fifth; they couldn’t afford losing. They put a lot of money on the bet, and it would he such a big loss to them. 

A drift area was near; he prepared himself mentally, quickly stirring his wheel to perform a smooth drift. He smirked as he saw that he rushed forward and put Momo behind, the other driver slacking off by just a bit. 

“Keep drifting on the long side, Min.” Chan spoke. “You’ll get a greater boost.”

He passed through the drifts smoothly, effectively making Momo’s car seem small from a large distance. Though it was still visible, it gave Minho a sense of pride. 

“First lap is passed by Jeongyeon with 47.2 seconds.” 

“Second to pass by is Changbin, worh 49.1 seconds.”

Changbin’s car from afar was seen by Minho, his blue car was easy to spot. 

“Pedal, Min. Just straight ahead and turn left for the lap.”

He complied, speeding up his vehicle and then the background seemed faded from the speed. The engine roared, completely on fire. He swiftly turned left, and passed by the familiar area where they started. 

“Minho with 53.9 seconds.”

A sense of pride came in, he felt so confident. It was a large chance that they would win if he and Changbin would remain in the top three. 

He went in on the same circles again, drifting and flying from the humps. Before he even knew it, it was already his sixth lap. 

“You’re doing so great, Min.” Chan whispered. He felt secure, knowing that he didn’t let his mentor down. 

He was nearly side to side with Changbin, the younger’s car was only ahead by a bit. He quickly spotted a hump to speed him up and go ahead of Changbin just like last time. 

And so he did. It wasn’t a hump, though. It was a ramp. He went surging in a high distance from the ground, his car falling down on the tracks with a big bounce. 

Changbin was now behind him. 

“Felix passed fifth lap in 6 minutes and 31.9 seconds. He’s the last to pass by the fifth lap.”

_What?_

_Felix was the last?_

It couldn’t be. The other two players form their team had to beat Jihyo and Chaeyoung to win — they can’t place last. 

“Breathe, Minho. Felix and Bambam will do fine. Focus on your own track.” Chan comforted him. 

He raced by, a sense of confidence surging his. He felt the need to place first to win — just to carry the other two. Changbin could definitely win on his own. 

The ticks on his dashboard were rotating at a disturbing pace, his speed nearly exceeding the given kilometers per hour plastered. 

He could already see Jeongyeon’s black car from a distance — it was shining even if it was dark. 

He stepped on the pedal, quickly catching up. Only a drift and a few ramps and he’d get first place. 

“Calm down, Minho.” Chan said, stern. “You’ll catch up. Just take time to find ramps. You can get first place, trust me.”

He breathed slowly, calming himself down. 

“Drift nearby.” Chan said. He went pass the drift area, the reflectors illuminated as his headlights came near. It was satisfying. 

His hair was disheveled from all the drifting and humps, but he couldn’t care less. All he cared about right now was winning. 

“Jeongyeon slowing down. Use that to you advantage.” Minho modded as he did, on facy, see Jeongyeon slowing down. One more drift and it’s over for her. 

Last drift was coming. 

“You’re such a good boy, you’ll do great.” The comment seemed inappropriate, but Minho shrugged it off and took it as a compliment. He rushed towards the drift area, the reflectors becoming more and more luminous as their headlights came near. 

Bingo. 

He was side by side with Jeongyeon. She was the best racer in Twice, followed by Tzuyu. Sadly, Tzuyu couldn’t participate in the ace because of her injury. She was there to guide Jihyo, though. 

Neck to neck, car to car, bumper to bumper. 

One wrong move and everything will be over. 

He saw the finish line — Jisung standing in the middle again. 

I swear, Jisung will end up being hit if he continues to stand there. 

Flaggers were supposed to be distractive, though. And Jisung sure did a good job. 

Victory was within his grasp. One tiny millisecond and he’ll get first place.

“Enjoy, Min.” Chan said. It was probably his last guide to him for the tournament. 

Minho contemplated whether to drift to win. It was in the rules that only one pair of wheels had to pass by to consider one finished lap — Minho could drift and his back wheels would land just fine. 

One thing was the problem, though. 

Minho has never done that before. 

He took a deep breath and gulped — it’s now or never. 

Suddenly hit the gas pedal impossibly harder, then suddenly pressing his brakes. 

He was ready for the impact. 

He was ready for his car to do an 180 turn. 

His wheel screeched at an ear piercing sound — his background felt like rotating endlessly. His breath was hitched at the back of his throat, unable to breathe at such a moment. 

The world flashed through his eyes. 

His mom. Changbin. University. _Chan._

His eyes rolled back from the impact, but nonetheless opened it again. 

His back wheels passed the line. Just right before Jeongyeon’s front wheels did. 

“First place goes to Minho, ending the race with 7 minutes and 31.43 seconds.”

“Jeongyeon finished the game and came kn as second place with 7 minutes and 31.5 seconds. 

He did it. 

He got first place. 

“I’m so, so proud of you.” He heard Chan speak from the other line. “Always.”

“We lost.”

“Totally not obvious, Bambam.” Changbin snapped. Sure, Minho did go first — but Bambam and Felix’s car were the last two to finish. Changbin was third. They could have won individually, but it was a team competition. It required team effort. 

“I’m sorry.” Minho squeaked out. “I should have helped the other members instead of aiming first.”

“Nah, you’re cool.” Seungmin shrugged. “All of you aimed for first, anyway. But only one could take that title.”

“We got a player to be the first placer but we lost as a team.” Minho’s shoulders slumped down in shame. 

“We did lose a hell lot of money, but we still did our best and enjoyed ourselves. Cheer up, we’ll join more tournaments in the future.” Jeongin explained, trying to convince the elder members. 

“Since all of you are down and blue,” Chan started off. “Why don’t we eat takeout at my place tonight?”

To say that Chan’s area was huge was an understatement. This man lived in a mansion. 

The place was illuminated with carious blinding lights, a few expensive cars parked at the entrance. The rest parked their car there, of course. 

Beside the actual house was a small pool and a small court for basketball, a few street lights illuminating the place. 

He entered the house with the others, Chan leading their way. The living room was so spacious — it looks like two times the size of Minho’s apartment. Two large couches were placed perpendicularly, four extra seats on the side. The nine of them sat comfortably, munching on the noodles and chicken Chan ordered. 

Each had a ceramic plate on their left hand, and chopsticks on the other. They picked up random food they would like to munch on, satisfying themselves. 

They all ate in silence, a few conversations flowing here and there. The house was empty, apart from the extra housekeepers who assisted them with the food. Chan could have asked them to cook something, but he wanted the food quickly so he settled on takeout. 

Minho took a bite of the noodles, slurping on the excess that didn’t fit his mouth. He felt the flavors in his tongue, satisfying him. The chicken was buttered and fried, and all of them absolutely loved it. 

It took no time for them to finish the food — the styrofoam and foil containers were empty. Minho helped Bambam in bringing the plates to the housekeepers in the kitchen, while the rest disposed the containers. 

“Thanks for the meal, Chan.” Changbin said in which Chan smiled in response. 

“No worries.” He started off. “Want to stay the night?”

A chorus of agreement followed after. Minho was about to agree too, but he suddenly remembered that he had to visit him mom tomorrow. He might accidentally forgot if he stayed more, so when Chan lead the others to the guest rooms, he tapped his shoulder. 

“Chan,” Minho quietly called out. Chan faced back. “I can’t stay the night. I have somewhere to be tomorrow.”

“Why?” 

“I just...” Minho trailed off. “Wanted to visit my mom tomorrow. We were supposed to meet today, but I cancelled because of the tournament.” Chan raised both of his eyebrows, understanding him nonetheless. 

“Okay,” He had a tight smile. “Want me to walk you out?”

Chan told the others that he had to walk Minho outside his home, only because he had a large home and he might get lost. He could ask the housekeepers to assist him, but he brushed it off as he didn’t want to burden them more. 

They walked side by side silently, walking down the wide stairs. His feet were covered in socks but he could still feel the cold temperature of the tiled floor, but he just continued to walk. 

Chan escorted him out, the elder opening the front door. Minho sat on the step and wore his shoes. Chan simply wore his home slippers. 

Minho grabbed his car keys that were dangling from the belt loops on his pants, unlocking the car. He got inside and faced Chan. 

“Thank you for today, Chan.” He said sincerely. “Wouldn’t have done it without you. I mean, we may have lost, but I tried my best. All credit goes to you.” 

Chan just stared. Not the rude or blank type — Minho couldn’t figure out what it was. 

“You know, we may have lost as a team, but you won first place.” Chan tilted his head. “I have a surprise for you, remember?”

Minho raised one of his eyebrows. 

“O... kay? What is it, then?”

Chan opened Minho’s door, startling him. He suddenly sat on his lap sidewards, his legs hanging off the side of the car. Minho’s eyes were wide, obviously shocked from the action. 

Chan leaned forward, and the latter’s head instinctively leaned backwards. Chan temporarily glanced up in his eyes before dragging his vision down his lips. 

“Is this okay?” His voice was barely above a whisper. Minho visibly gulped, not allowing his voice to speak. He didn’t trust whatever he had to let out, his cheeks flaming from the heat. Is it because of the heat, really?

Chan shifted on his lap. He drew himself closer, playing with the buttons of his polo. A small pout was on his face, his eyes a bit sad.

“Aren’t you gonna answer?” He faced Minho, his pout still visible. Before Minho even knew it, his head nodded before his own accord. 

“It’s okay.” Minho didn’t know who was talking — he would have panicked, but he didn’t want to seem rude and push off Chan after inviting him to his house. 

Chan closed the gap, Minho’s eyes were still wide. Chan’s hand shifted from his buttons to his nape, drawing him closer. 

Minho closed his eyes. It’s not like he purposely did it, but it seemed inappropriate for him to have his eyes wide as someone was kissing him. 

Chan moved his lips, his cologne oozing off from his clothes. Minho loved it. 

The younger started to kiss back, his hands involuntarily landing on the elder’s waist to keep him in place. Chan used his other hand to unbuckle Minho’s seatbelt, flushing their bodies closer than ever. 

It was heated yet slow — you could feel the desire from both parties, but no one took courage. It felt nice that they both enjoyed each other’s presence, lips resting on another. 

Both of Chan’s arms were low looped on Minho’s neck, his face tilting even more. His eyelashes brushed over the latter’s cheeks, his lips moved and shifted more. 

They broke off the kiss to breathe, Chan breathing slowly as he started to lean again. This time, Minho kissed back with much more anticipation and passion. More movement and brushing of lips occurred, Chan unconsciously fidgeting over the younger’s buttons again. 

Chan tasted like lemons. Minho didn’t exactly remember when his obsession for lemons started, but he sure did know when it started from. 

Chan slipped his tongue on his lips, in which Minho opened the gap from his lips in response. His grip in his waist tightened, a small sound on the back of Chan’s throat resounded. He continued to explore his cavern, bodies pressing closer. 

Heartbeats. 

Steady heartbeats on another. 

With their bodies flush against another, they both could feel each other’s heartbeats, beating from one another. It was silent — only the silent beats were heard. 

Chan moved his lips from the other’s to his cheeks, dragging his lips slowly. He started pressing soft kisses on his jaw. Minho shivered from the foreign feeling. 

Chan explored Minho’s neck, kissing it and making it feel precious and special. He started to unbutton some buttons from the taller shirt, his hands exploring his collarbones slightly. 

From that moment, Minho knew he developed an obsession with the taste of lemons and the smell of asphalt.

Chan felt restless. 

Minho never showed up after the “surprise.”

Normally, he’d brush it off if it were two or three nights that he hasn’t been on the training grounds. That wasn’t really the case. 

It’s been a week since the tournament, and the boys would normally visit the grounds to race from time to time. All of the members had visited this week, apart from Minho. 

He felt anxious, he felt his stomach falling every hour. He felt like being sucked in the middle of the Earth, he wanted to vanish because he was afraid he messed up. 

_Dear god,_ he closed his eyes. _What if he didn’t like it? Did I go too far? What if he hates me? What if we get awkward? What if he never shows up again?_

It would be a big mess if Minho never showed up again. 

And so Chan pondered if he should text Changbin to ask about his whereabouts. He may know where the younger has been, and Chan silently cursed himself for not asking for Minho’s number before. He didn’t really want to ask Minho's number to Changbin — after all, he just wanted to ask one question. 

He sucked it up and unlocked his phone using his fingerprint. He clicked on the messaging app and scrolled to find his and Changbin’s previous conversation. 

**_Chan:  
bin, do you know where minho is?  
it’s been a week and i haven’t seen him  
just checking in haha_ **

He pursed his lips and waited for a response. Changbin’s typing bubble appeared almost immediately, it meant that Changbin would respond soon. He’d get his answer soon. 

**_Changbin:  
nope, he isn’t going to uni too_ **

Or not. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and sighed. 

_He isn’t attending university too? Where was he, then?_

He stood up and turned on the faucet to fill up his kettle, plugging it in and boiled himself some water. He’ll make tea for himself — another stress-relieving hobby he did when he’s, well, stressed, apart from racing. 

He opened a cupboard on top of him, reaching out for a yellow cardboard box and pulled out a teabag and grabbed a mug. Settling down the items on the counter, the kettle made a small ‘ding,’ signifying that his water was already hot. He poured himself a cup of tea — pure, no sugar or any other condiments added. 

He sat on the large couches and sipped on his mug, the warm feeling a bland taste effectively calming him down. He heaved a sigh as he set the mug down and rested his back on the couch. 

He scrolled through his SNS accounts, occasionally liking some posts by his acquaintances on Instagram. He barely opened the app, moreover posted in it. He just enjoyed having the app itself, low-key reconnecting with some distant friends. 

He occasionally sipped on his mug, the warm feeling contrasting the low room temperature. He even asked for the housekeepers to not turn on the air conditioning units today, the breeze from outside was enough. It was the time of the year where the sun shone on the side of the pool, the sunlight barely reaching his walls. He didn’t have to worry about the heat oozing from his walls. 

He continued to scroll on random posts and eventually switched his app to Tiktok. He didn’t really use it often, he used it to occasionally browse through some trends and videos to entertain him. His attention span was shitty; he couldn’t last ten minutes focusing on reading or watching a movie. The short less-than-one-minute videos on the app fit perfectly to his attention span. 

It’s been an hour already — his sock-clad feet were on the couch, he hugged his legs with one hand and the phone on the other. His back rested on a throw pillow, his sitting position was comfortable. 

He was watching a cute cooking video with the random French (he assumed) woman singing in the background. He was about to bookmark it for later but a certain notification popped up. His mood went from 0 to 10 to 0 again — it’s back to square one. 

It’s his younger sister’s death anniversary today. The thought slipped from Chan’s head, cursing himself mentally for forgetting such an important event. 

His sister passed away four years ago today. She was seven years younger than Chan — her dimples and eyes resembling his own. They got it from their father, Chan believed. It was a distinct feature the three of them possessed. 

Her sister was a sweetheart — she was very polite. Thanked people for small gestures, greeted people she knew even if they weren’t close. Chan got his friendly attitude from her, he gradually picked up her habits as they grew together. Sure, they were the typical siblings who wrestled and roasted each other, but who doesn’t? Their dynamic was perfect. 

Not until she was kidnapped by a madman. The culprit, in all honesty, didn’t really intend to get her and end up making her pass away from starvation. The younger greeted the culprit’s niece, the elder woman greeting her back, not knowing there was a bus zooming in the streets where she crossed. 

It was clear that no harm was intended — but he wanted to get some sort of revenge, some sort of satisfaction. He loved his niece to death, since he couldn’t have a child of his own. She was like his own child, too. 

In response to his raging emotions, he decided to kidnap her sister and became fully delusional — she held her hostage in exchange for his niece’s life. It was impossible, everyone knew that. There was no choice, they asked for the police to go to their location, only for them to find out that it’s too late. 

Chan removed the painful memory from his thought, as he walked into a flower to buy her flowers. He purchased anything but sunflowers — she absolutely hated those. They were all dependent on the sun. 

He walked out of the shop, taking the bus to head over the area where her ashes were found. 

Several jars greeted Chan as he walked through the halls to meet his sister. He walked and turned for a few, his eyes settling on the familiar glass panel where her sister is located. 

He stood in front of her jar, a pretty picture of her framed beside it. Chan smiled softly, sliding the glass panel and placing the small bundle of tulips on her area, removing the wilt ones. 

He took his sweet time to talk to her silently, sharing his thoughts that no one else could hear. He felt relieved, as if a burden was lifted off his shoulders. Bottling up feelings really hurts. 

He pulled out his phone and snapped a quick photo of her sister with the new bundle of flowers, and pocketed it after. 

“See you in a while, yeah? I hope you’re happy there.” He muttered before he turned around. He walked through the hallways, his sneakers hitting the tiles softly, creating an inaudible sound. 

He walked and walked as his hands were buried in his jean pockets, seeking warmth. He took the last turn and to his surprise, he saw a familiar redhead entering the place. 

What is he doing here? He thought. His first instinct was to rush to him, but instead, he hid behind a wall. The younger boy walked mindlessly and took the flight of stairs to head to somewhere. 

Chan followed discreetly, making sure to not get caught. The boy went to one of the hallways that weren’t full of jars yet, a lot of slots were open. The redhead sat down and stared at a jar from the bottom row. 

A had a sad smile on his face, his fingers touching the cold, glass surface. He was saying something inaudible, Chan couldn’t understand what he was saying. 

And so he took a deep breath and walked over the younger’s direction. 

“Min?” The younger boy swiftly turned his head, mouth and eyes open from shock. 

“Chan?” The said boy walked over to him and kneeled beside him. 

“Didn’t know I’d stumble upon you here.” The elder said. 

“I never really told anyone so it’s just natural that you wouldn’t expect to meet me here.” He silently laughed, lifeless. “How did you find me?”

“I visited my sister here. I saw you when I was about to leave and I followed you here.”

“Your sister?” Minho asked quietly, his vision drawing from the jar to the latter. 

“Yep. Her death anniversary is today.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“No need, but thanks.” Chan faced the jar the younger was staring at. A name was carved into the marble jar, their last name identical to Minho’s. 

“Mom passed away last Monday.” Minho started to explain. “I guess I have to explain, then?”

“Mom?” Minho entered the bright room and placed the plastic of fruits beside her bed. “I brought you fruits. You wanted to talk to me?”

“I wish.” Her mom said, her voice was croaky from her illness. Minho took the seat beside her and sat, holding her hand carefully. 

“How have you been? Is university okay?”

“Yeah,” It was a white lie. “It’s okay so far. Job has been going down recently, but we can manage.”

By ‘job,’ Minho meant racing. He never told her mom because he just knew she would just scold him and tell him to find a decent job. Minho loved racing, and the money was just a bonus. 

“That’s great.” She said, her voice brittle. “You don’t have to worry about money anymore.”

Minho raised one of his eyebrows. 

“Why’s that?”

“I just... lost the will to live.” Minho’s breath hitched. “The hospital bills are too expensive for you to pay for. And my chances of recovering are low.”

She took a deep breath and gathered courage to meet her son’s eyes. 

“I don’t know what to do after I recover, if I did, anyway.” Minho tightened his grip on her hands. “I lived long enough. I had my fair share of life milestones.

“Maybe it’s really my time to go. Maybe the heavens want me to meet your father again.”

Tears were brimming at the edges of their eyes. Minho couldn’t bring himself to speak, not trusting his voice. 

“... is that what you really want?” Minho quietly asked after the painfully long silence. 

“Yes.” Minho closed his eyes and nodded.

“If that’s what you really want then...” His voice was shrinking word by word. “I’ll give it to you.”

“I’m sorry, Ino baby. I’m sure you can live without me. You technically don’t, do you?” She laughed. “It would be nice if a burden was lifted off your shoulders. Quit your job and focus on uni, yeah?”

“Sure, mom.” Minho smiled, but his eyes weren’t. He wasn’t ready to let go. 

Unfortunately, all things have an end. 

“Condolence, Min.” Chan hugged the younger who had tears brimming on his eyes. He gladly returned the embrace. 

“It may seem like I ignored you, but trust me — I didn’t.”

“I thought you wanted to cut ties then.” Chan admitted and laughed after. 

“I definitely don’t want to.” Minho silently said, a content smile on his face. “So, what are we?”

“What do you want us to be?” Chan raised an eyebrow. 

“Fix your answer. You’re literally in front of my mom and I haven’t even come out to her yet.” 

“Oh, my bad.” Chan faced the jar. “Can I have your place of taking care of Minho? I’ll treat him well, I promise.” 

Minho looked at Chan, his eyes glistening. 

“I’m sure she’ll agree. I’m in good hands.” Minho glanced at the jar. “I’m sure you don’t need to worry about me. Chan’s a good person.”

Silence fell over the two, a silent agreement between them and Minho’s mom. They already knew the answer. 

They found their finish line. 

A sweet kiss was shared — nothing similar to the one they shared at his car. This one’s soft, making each other feel that they’re special. One that was slow, something you’ll interpret as something precious, something rarely seen in the world. 

Lemons were supposed to be sour. 

Lemons were supposed to make your face scrunch up in reflex. 

But lemons made Minho feel safe and sweet.


End file.
